


small talk, big thoughts

by vinesse



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: It's all Kyoutani, M/M, T Rating for swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinesse/pseuds/vinesse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first practice match of the season, Seijoh loses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	small talk, big thoughts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starsupernova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsupernova/gifts).



The first practice match of the season, Seijoh loses.

Yahaba slams his fist into the lockers, still there long after the team has left to make its way to the bus, heads low in defeat. He sees everything he did wrong whenever he closes his eyes, everything that could have gone _right_ if he had just been a little bit better, a little more like Oikawa. It stings in a way nothing ever has, and Yahaba hits the locker again, teeth gritted against the heat that lingers behind his eyes.

There's a creak as the door to the gym opens, and Yahaba fiercely wipes his face on his jersey, ignoring the smell of sweat in favor of looking up. It's not Watari, there's no greeting, and he doesn't understand the silence that continues after the whoosh of the closing door.

"Who's there?"

There's no reply still, and Yahaba's just starting to wonder if he imagined the noise when he sees a flash of yellow between the shower stalls.

_Oh._

"What do you want," he spits, and he honestly doesn't mean to sound that angry. The loss had nothing to do with how Kyoutani played, and everything to do with how Yahaba did. The knowledge doesn't stop him from lashing out like a wounded animal, though. "Are we leaving? If not, get out."

"This ain't your room, I don't have to leave if I don't want to," comes the reply, in a much calmer voice than Yahaba was expecting. He takes a deep breath.

"I don't really care. Get out, go tell the team I'm coming. I'll be out there in a second."

Kyoutani shoots him a look, eyebrows furrowed while his eyes narrow a fraction. His patience is wearing thin, Yahaba can tell. He wonders why that doesn't really seem to stop him from talking. It would have, last year. "Kyoutani, get the hell out—"

"Shut up," the other boy barks, anger seeping into his tone. It's still less than Yahaba expected. "God, just fuckin' shut up, ok? The whole team knows you're in here cryin' your eyes out or whatever because you can't take the job Oikawa gave you—"

Yahaba doesn't even remember the decision to throw the punch that's headed towards Kyoutani's face. He sees in slow motion, the path of his closed hand, the widening of Kyoutani's eyes for a brief second before they harden into something he doesn't want to think about. It's easy for Kyoutani to grab his wrist, fingers crushing bone, and yank him closer, teeth bared just slightly.

They stand there, frozen in time, and Yahaba cuts Kyoutani off when he sees the other open his mouth. "I didn't mean— I wasn't—"

"Yeah you were," Kyoutani interrupts. If Yahaba didn't know better, he'd say he looked almost pleased. "You meant to. Because that's what's botherin' you."

Yahaba stares at him, mouth opening and shutting before he finally settles for a glare, fingers tightening into another fist. He idly wonders if Kyoutani's going to let him go anytime soon. "That's not true."

"Is so," the blond retorts, finally releasing the crushing grip Yahaba's wrist. "That's exactly what's botherin' you. You're just fuckin' worried about steppin’ into the shoes of that jackass." He ignores the narrowing of Yahaba's eyes. "Which is goddamn ridiculous. You're two different people, why the hell would you expect to be anything like him."

"I don't think I'm supposed to be like him, that's the thing!" Yahaba doesn't even know where the words are coming from, but they won't stop. He figures it's better than punching Kyoutani in the face. "I don't know _what_ I'm supposed to be like! This is different from all the practice we've done! Nothing _worked_ ." He steps back, kicking his back over. "Nothing fucking _worked_. It's like we just fell apart."

"That's not fuckin' true. A lot of our shit worked!" Kyoutani's yelling now, and Yahaba takes another step back. "You're not fuckin’ Oikawa and you never will be! So just figure out what works for _you_. What works for _us_ now that they're all gone! Jesus, you act like the third years were the only goddamn thing that worked on this shitty team! They weren't. They fuckin' lost to Karasuno. They weren't invincible."

Kyoutani's breathing hard now, hands in fists like now _he_ wants to hit the lockers. There's something in his voice, underneath the harshness of his tone and words, something that makes Yahaba think that Kyoutani really wants him to _listen_. "We can get better. We _will_ be fuckin' better. It's only the first damn match of the season. There's a long damn time until Spring."

Yahaba stares at Kyoutani as his words echo across the locker room. There's determination, and even something like _desperation_ in Kyoutani's words. Yahaba's eyes soften a little. "Since when did you become such a huge cheerleader for team work and self-respect."

Kyoutani looks like he's on the path to murder, and Yahaba laughs as he finally bends down to pick up his bag, shoving clothes and his water bottle back in. "Such a pretty speech, Kentarou. I should have recorded it. Played it back to the team whenever they get down—"

He's jerked up suddenly, a fist wrapped in his shirt collar, and then there's lips on his own. They're chapped as usual, and he sighs as Kyoutani releases him. "You need to stop resorting to that to get me to shut up."

"It's either that or hittin' you, what do you want," Kyoutani mutters, grabbing Yahaba's bag while trying to make the action seem casual. "Let's go. The others are waitin' for you, Watari's probably cryin' or some shit without you there."

Yahaba laughs again, and nudges Kyoutani out the way with his shoulder, leading the way out of the locker room. It’s not much, certainly nothing like what Watari or anyone else would have said, but Kyoutani’s words linger in the back of his mind.

_It’s a long time until Spring._

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed it! This was my first time writing Yahaba and Kyoutani, I hope it wasn't too terrible. As always, thanks to my beta. Happy Holidays!


End file.
